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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"Green Fancy"

That being the case, they were now quite close to
the stake and rider fence separating the Curtis land from that of the
farmer on the north. Sprouse and Barnes had hugged this fence during
their progress across the meadow.
"Good," he said, more to himself than to her. "I begin to see light."
"Oh, dear! Is there some one down in that hole, Mr.--"
"Are you afraid to remain here while I go down there for a look
around? I sha'n't be gone more than a couple of minutes."
"The way I feel at present," she said, jerkily, "I shall never, never
from this instant till the hour in which I die, let go of your coat-
tails, Mr. Barnes." Suiting the action to the word, her fingers
resolutely fastened, not upon the tail of his coat but upon his sturdy
arm. "I wouldn't stay here alone for anything in the world."
"Heaven bless you," he exclaimed, suddenly exalted. "And, since you
put it that way, I shall always contrive to be within arm's length."
And so, together, they ventured along the edge of the pit until they
reached the wagon road at the bottom. As he had expected, there was a
ramshackle shed hard by. It was not much of a place, but it was
deserted and a safe shelter for the moment.


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